


In Our Bedroom After The War

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [65]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Banter, Domestic!Klaroline, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Riding, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6822448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini Drabble Monday: Smut Edition</p><p>A new enemy, an ingenious invention. It's not the first time Caroline's picked bits of wood out of Klaus but fingers crossed it's the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Our Bedroom After The War

**In Our Bedroom After The War**

**(Prompt #30 – Riding + #53 – Hurt/Comfort. Title from the Stars song of the same name. SMUT).**

"Hold still," Caroline demands. "Seriously, for the number of times people have tortured you you'd think your pain tolerance would be a little higher."

"My tolerance is fine," Klaus complains, wincing when she digs the tweezers back into his skin. "It's your bedside manner that's deplorable."

She glares and Klaus glares right back, before he drops his eyes down to her shaking hands pointedly. Caroline clenches her teeth together and breathes in deeply through her nose. Because fine, maybe he has a point.

She wasn't going to admit it, especially since he was the one who inspired a vampire to actually turn a mad scientist type with the purpose of inventing a weapon that shot about a bajillion toothpicks at a ridiculous velocity.

Aimed at her, of course. Since they wouldn't actually kill Klaus.

Clearly Klaus would never be a people person.

His freaky hybrid senses had saved her ass, and his body had shielded hers, taking the brunt of the projectiles. Her arms, and one of her legs had been riddled with the bits of wood, but they'd mostly been shallow, and had pushed right out after she'd fed on one of the humans who'd been part of the group of attackers.

After Klaus had destroyed the giant toothpick gun thing. Because she wasn't an idiot.

He wasn't so lucky, and many of the tiny wooden stakes were embedded deep and needed to be removed before he would heal.

It was kind of déjà vu. Caroline would bet that Silas would have been tickled by the situation, were he still around. It's different now, because she can admit she cares about Klaus, that seeing him hurt freaked her out. Hell, they've been sleeping in the same bed for the better part of thirty years (save for the odd time he _really_ pisses her off and gets drunk and passes out in his studio) and she's planning on sticking around. And while he's in no real danger, since it's plain old birch and not white oak, that doesn't mean she likes it when he's uncomfortable and bleeding as she roots around in his flesh.

He grabs her free hand, the one that had been resting on his chest, and squeezes. "'I'm fine," he assures her, ducking his head to catch her eyes. "You're fine. And by tomorrow we'll have discovered if there are any more of their group out there that need to be taken care of. And I _will_ take care of them, I promise."

Caroline nods, takes another deep breath. She trusts him, knows he'd do just about anything to ensure the safety of a few select people, and that she was on that list. Her hand is steadier, when she reaches for the next piece of wood, and Klaus' only reaction is a brief grimace. She works silently for a time, methodically, working her way down his torso.

Absently, she shoves him down, climbs on to his lap to begin working on his stomach. His hands come up to land on her thighs, tracing shapes along the top of them. Caroline ignores him, until she feels him hardening against her ass. "Nope," she clips out, refusing to look up at him. She just knows it will kill her resolve. "Not happening. Not tonight."

"Love," Klaus begins, in that low, coaxing tone that has led to some _very_ questionable decisions on Caroline's part.

Mostly involving sex in public places.

He knew she was into it and totally exploited it, the smug jerk.

"Nope," she repeats. "I am going to finish de-toothpicking you. You are going to feed. And then you are going to have a shower. And I am going to make the bed because these sheets are ruined. And then we are going to sleep, so you're all fresh and ready to get your enemy slaying on tomorrow."

She chances a glance up, only to find him looking insulted. "I do not need _sleep_ to kill people, Caroline."

Caroline snorts because hello, understatement.

"And this is hardly the first set of sheets we've ruined with a little blood, love. It's just usually in a far more enjoyable fashion."

His hands drift higher, edging her skirt up. Caroline can't swat his hands away, right in the middle of digging out a stubborn piece as she is. He brushes over the front of her panties with a thumb, ghosting over her clit, and Caroline's breath falters, "Klaus," she warns. "Do you want me to drive this in deeper? Stop distracting me."

Klaus, of course, doesn't listen, pressing harder, letting out a pleased hum when he finds the lace damp over her entrance. "I think you quite like me distracting you, sweetheart. Tell me, what's gotten you worked up? The fight? Or do you like playing nurse? Because I would be happy to explore that."

Caroline rolls her eyes, but doesn't bother to respond. Until Klaus tears her underwear off. "Hey!" she scolds, but Klaus rolls into a sitting position, and the play of muscles as he moves is a little distracting.

She runs her hand over his abs lightly (totally checking for more wood) and Klaus peels her dress down her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra with it. His tongue flicks over a nipple, far too gently, before he peers up at her innocently. "Should I stop?" he asks. "Since you're so very determined that we get a good night's rest."

Caroline mentally debates getting up, and going with her initial plan, just to get him back for being an unbearable smartass. But he's sneaky, shifting the hand that still rests between her thighs and pressing it against her firmly, tracing over her slit. And she does want him, wants to feel him inside of her, to know that he really will be fine.

Besides, he _was_ 1000 years old. The chances of him changing any of his more annoying personality traits at this point were pretty unlikely.

No reason to torture herself.

She threads her hand through his hair, directing him back to her breast. She sees a quick flash of teeth, a sly grin, but she can't be mad when he sucks her nipple between his lips, just as his fingers find her clit. He doesn't push his luck, there's no teasing. His mouth is the perfect combination of rough suction and the blunt edge of teeth, his fingers pushing inside of her as his thumb works her clit.

He knows her body, and has mastered just the right way to touch her, and she comes quickly, in long shuddering waves, head tipped up to the ceiling as she moans his name. Klaus smiles against her skin, and she's certain he's about to say something he thinks is oh so clever.

Better not to give him the chance.

She pushes on his shoulders, staring him down until he rests flat against the bed. Caroline sits up on her knees and tears at his belt before shoving his pants down. She takes a moment to strip her dress and bra away, before she wraps her hand around his cock.

Klaus hisses out a breath between clenched teeth as she toys with the head, smearing the precum to ease the way when her grip firms as she strokes down. His head digs into the bed, the cords of his neck in sharp relief.

Hey, he's not the only one who's been paying attention.

Caroline smirks at him, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down in one smooth drop. She settles her hips against his, rolling them slightly and bringing her hands up to tug at her nipples. Klaus' eyes grow dark and he moves underneath her, restless and tense. "Something you wanted?" Caroline asks, clenching down around his cock.

His eyelids flutter, jaw tight. "Move," he grits out.

Caroline shrugs her shoulders, widens her eyes, pretends to think about it. "I suppose I could. But I don't want to hurt you so I guess…" she leans back, planting her hand on his thighs and several rough curses fall from Klaus.

The angle is freaking amazing for her too, and she can't help but do what he'd asked, pulling off of him and then falling back quickly, moaning as she does it. He begins to move with her, his feet on the floor giving him leverage. She begins to sweat as she works above him, her hair curling around her temples, straining to reach another peak. "Klaus," she gasps out. "Klaus, please."

He surges up, wraps her legs around his waist, one of his hands on her ass pulling her into the harsh snaps of his hips. She wants to protest, sure that they're just lodging the remaining wood in deeper, but she can't bring herself to care when he grabs her hand, directing it between them. She doesn't need prompting, her fingers flying over her clit until she cries out, spine bowing as she quivers against him.

Klaus' hoarse exhalation of her name as he shudders follows quickly after, and he falls back to the bed, rolling them to the side. They pant together quietly for long moments, his hands in her hair. Caroline finds herself cringing, as her hand tentatively drops to his lower stomach, finding the wounds that still remain. "And that," she tells him, as she gingerly traces his skin, "is why I thought _that_ was a bad idea."

Klaus' chuckle is low, and he rolls back, groping for the tweezers. "It's fine, sweetheart. Worth it, I'd say." He hands them to her, a pleased smile on his face.

Caroline finds herself smiling back as she sits up, telling herself it's time to get back to the business at hand. "I'm going to finish this. Then blood. Shower. Bed," she tells him firmly.

"Counter offer: You finish up. We shower together. I drink from you, you drink from me. Ideally while I'm fucking you in said shower. Then bed."

"To sleep," Caroline declares firmly. Because she might be caving, but she doesn't have to cave on _everything_.

Klaus shrugs, licks his lips, eyes bright with a challenge, "If you can keep your hands off of me, have at it, love."

She's maybe a little meaner when she needs to be when he hands her back the tweezers.


End file.
